


Strike

by cuckcitybitch



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: AHAHAHAHAH i'll go back to my squad of transhiro fans now, Body Horror, Body mutilation, I'm so sorry, Implied Canibalism, Oh, Other, POV First Person, Suicide Notes, dark shit, dark shit man, hiro is trans btw, holy shit, no sleep, this is sooooo bad oh my god, when is he not tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:55:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuckcitybitch/pseuds/cuckcitybitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 12:46 am.</p><p>I can’t sleep. I probably won’t again.</p><p>After the things I’ve seen, I don’t think it’s possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strike

**Author's Note:**

> FOR FUCKS SAKE PLEASE READ THE TAGS
> 
> THIS IS SIXPENCEEE LEVEL SHIT HERE
> 
> i would consider it a creepypasta and it's not technically a no sleep... at least to me...?
> 
> ugh
> 
> sorry

It’s 12:46 am.

I can’t sleep. I probably won’t again.

After the things I’ve seen, I don’t think it’s possible.

Perhaps I should start from the beginning.

My name is Tadashi Hamada. I’m just a college student. I have an aunt named Cass, and I had a brother named Hiro. Had, you ask? That’s right, I _had_ a brother. But not anymore. It’s worn on me terribly, I loved him a lot. He was my best friend. Him and I, we were gonna change the world.

But instead my world changed.

It started when Hiro disappeared. It was right before the annual SFIT showcase, he was supposed to present, and he said he was going to the bathroom, just before. He never came back, and thus was disqualified from earning a scholarship to SFIT. He was going to quit bot fighting and go to school with me…

I thought perhaps maybe, he’d been nervous, or scared even. Maybe he was having an anxiety attack, its not uncommon for him. Searching turned up no results, the only thing we could find was Hiro’s deep blue jacket, lying on a campus bench. I thought it was terrible luck, especially because I had sewn tracking devices into each one of his jackets and this was as far as it lead us.

We filed a missing person report with the police department immediately. The police did what they could, but in the end, they were little more than useless. The story didn't even hit the news until a week later when they figured out he was a child genius.

Shows you where people's priorities are.

A week later, the messages started coming.

They were coming from Hiro’s phone, but they were most certainly not from Hiro. They weren’t ransom, but after reading them, I almost wished they were. At first they were vague statements, I thought they were a cruel prank, maybe some sick fuck was messing with me. Things like “ _his hair is so silky_ ” and “ _his skin is so soft_ ”, did little more than irk me, but then they turned dark. They genuinely terrified me. “ _I like the way his pussy bleeds_ ” and “ _these bruises bring out the fear in his eyes_ ” were just a few out of the numerous messages I received.

The messages only got longer and more descriptive.

They talked about what it was like raping Hiro.

They talked about throwing him around like he was a rag doll.

They talked about the tiny room They kept Hiro in, how he was deprived of the most basic necessities.

Of course, I forwarded everything to the police, but they'd already tried to track his phone previously. It didn't work then, and it most certainly didn't work now.

Eventually I was forced to block my own brother’s number, I couldn’t handle reading the trauma he was putting my sibling through. I vomited so many times...

Eventually "They" figured out I wasn’t receiving messages anymore and They switched to packages. The contents were… Well. There are no words to describe what was in those yellow envelopes. I made the mistake of opening the first one without caution, thinking it little more than electronic parts I’d requested for my project.

The first was a strand of hair. Jet black, wavy hair to be precise. Paper clipped to three polaroids with the words “ _Strike 1_ ” and “ _He was being… difficult._ ” written on the back. it was rather unfortunate I didn’t even think this was from the kidnapper until I flipped the polaroid over.

There are few things that can reduce people to a sobbing, dry heaving mess on the floor. I’m sure seeing images of your 14 year old brother covered in... covered in… filth... and he was… They were…

I still can’t say it…

I’ve never seen such pain in my brothers eyes.

The police were called, they took longer to get here this time. No traceable fingerprints just traces of nitrile, like stuff they make disposable gloves out of. The hair strands DNA matched a strand from my brothers jacket.

I didn’t go back to school for a week after that. Most of the professors thought I should take some time off anyway, it wasn’t that hard to convince them.

Professor Callaghan said he’d be praying for me and my family. Though I’m not very religious I appreciated that was all he said. He didn’t stare at me with pity in his eyes like most people did. He said he understood my loss and what I was feeling. I wondered who he could have lost… I didn’t ask. I just nodded and took my leave.

I spent most of my time just… laying on my bed… staring into space. Feeling nothing was better then feeling useless.

I found the second package on my bed a couple days later after I came back from a walk. I didn’t touch it this time, I let the police handle it. They swept the house, found no intruders. They encouraged Aunt Cass not to start up business for a little while longer, we weren’t safe.

Inside the package were apparently fingernails. Not clippings, ten whole bloodied fingernails. And then three more polaroids. A shot of Hiro’s bound hands and screaming face as They pried the nails off his delicate fingers. A couple of shots of Hiro’s tear streaked face, one of him being forced to preform oral on someone much older than he, and one of his face covered in what I can only assume to be semen. “ _Strike 2. He tried to scratch me. Feisty one._ ”

I felt sick when I saw them. Not as much as last time though. I feel awful but I suppose I’m just desensitized about this now…

I wouldn’t let Aunt Cass see the pictures.

There were still no fingerprints, only nitrile traces.

That was about the same time I stopped sleeping. When I slept, all I could see was Hiro screaming for me to help him with his eyes clawed out and his hair torn out. I’ve had night terrors before but… these were… I couldn’t deal with them. I decided to forfeit school for another week after that. My professors understood and sent me missing work if I wanted to try and catch up.

At this point I might as well have just dropped out of the semester.

The third and final package came. Inside was a bloodied section of Hiro’s cargo shorts, wrapped around three more polaroids. The first was labeled “ _Strike 3_ ” and depicted Hiro kneeling with his knees spread and his head down. He was soaking wet, his hair stuck to his face like he’d just taken a shower. The second was labeled “ _He tried to run away. Turns out he’s not worth the trouble. I didn’t plan on keeping him that long anyway._ ” It simply depicted Hiro lying face down on the floor. The third was just a picture of his face, with a vacant expression and tears in his eyes. It only had coordinates on the back.

I already knew what was likely waiting there.

I thought Hiro would have been alive at least... but...

The police searched the coordinates, which turned out to be a small park and found his body.

He'd been... completely... and totally... _mutilated_. His arms had been removed and his internal organs had been left strewn about in the street. His eyes were sewn open while his lips had been sewn shut. The autopsy revealed he'd been so brutally raped... that tearing had occurred in both his anal and vaginal cavities... He’d been... strangled to death by a rope. He was completely missing his heart, liver, kidneys and uterus…

I didn’t know what kind of monster someone had to be to do this… I didn’t want to know.

It was just a gruesome mess... The media didn't help either, all the stories were exaggerated for shock value. I can't even bury my brother without being reminded of the horrors he'd suffered. I couldn't just pretend he'd died some other way.

The funeral was closed casket… I didn’t even get to see my brothers face one last time before they put him in the ground. I just stared at the small, small casket, I stared as they shoveled dirt on top of the onyx black box. Such an ornate piece of craftsmanship… It was just thrown in the ground with my beloved brother inside.

It just isn’t _fair._

Callaghan came and put his hand on my shoulder after several of the others had gone… he only said four words.

“Rest in peace, Hiro.”

It was the smell from his breath that nearly made me want to back away… It’s natural for people to have bad breath sometimes… but this was… different.

Carnage. It smelled like carnage. The metallic lingering taste of blood was so thick...

He didn’t see my look of horror, he was too fixated on the fresh grave with an intense expression. I tried to school my features into something less startled, and mumbled something along the lines of “I need to go”.

As soon as I was out of view I ran. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I ran to Aunt Cass. I told her to drive as fast as she could to the nearest station. She did without question.

I broke down before the name Robert could fully leave my lips.

Robert.

Robert Callaghan.

Robert _fucking_  Callaghan.

He was such a nice man.

I should have known better.

They gathered my mess of a statement before a search warrant was issued and two officers were sent to investigate.

They didn’t notice anything right away… and them one of them noticed the smell.

They found everything… and then some. The room he left Hiro in, the rope he used to cut his life short, his internal organs, the camera with several discarded polaroids, a bloodied set of pliers… and a female skeleton.

She wasn’t any older than Hiro when she died. She was nothing but a disassembled pile of bones. Her name was Abigail, I learned. She was his  _daughter_.

_His fucking **daughter.**_

After intense questioning Callaghan released one statement.

“When bad children do naughty things, the yokai will get them.”

I found out Hiro and Abigail had one thing in common.

They loved bot fighting.

It’s now 1:29 am.

The sleep aides are starting to take affect.

I want so desperately to sleep again.

I want to feel again.

But I want to see my brother more.

I’m sorry.

I'm so, so sorry. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm really really sorry i have no idea where this fucking came from even


End file.
